Shocking (to a sheltered person like me) story from Bowling Green:
“Bowling Green head coach Louis Orr woke up to some upsetting vandalism on his house on Sunday.
Reportedly, Orr, who is entering his sixth season as coach of the Falcons, found the words “white power” and a swastika written on the outside of his home in chalk. Bowling Green police are investigating the incident, according to the Toledo Blade.”
I guess this shouldn’t be shocking, really. When I was trying to make my entire living freelancing, I took odd jobs often, especially during the summer. In 2010, I worked for the U.S. Census doing the door-to-door survey here in Central Virginia.
At one stop, the door was answered by a burly, shirtless dude who reluctantly invited me in. When I went into his living room, I saw the gigantic stars and bars pinned to the paneling and knew this was not going to be a fun interview.
One question every census taker must ask each interviewee is the race question. For demographic purposes, allocation of resources, etc. I dreaded asking it of anyone, because it’s so loaded: I mean, seriously, if you ask a black person what race they are, they look at you like you’re insane, and there’s no way to make it less intrusive and ridiculous.
But for this guy, I knew it was going to be an entree into his personal grievances, and I was right. He goes straight to: “Wull, I’m whaat, obviously.” and then begins the diatribe about how he can’t get work because all the brown people are taking his jobs and how he is being marginalized. As a white man.
I consider it the greatest triumph of professionalism over impetuousity in my entire life that I sat through this, pen poised, for five minutes, without twitching, laughing or showing any emotion at all. When he finally wound down, I clicked the pen a couple of times and said.
"So, I should check ‘white’, then?"
(via Louis Orr’s house tagged with racial graffiti | CollegeBasketballTalk)